


If music be the food of love

by Sharpiefan



Series: The Shakespeare Series [17]
Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Gen, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpiefan/pseuds/Sharpiefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was, at first glance, an ordinary square-cased pianoforte that stood in the room at Rotherham Park when the family and their guests assembled after dinner.</p><p>Robbie gives his wife a very special Christmas present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If music be the food of love

_If music be the food of love, play on;_   
_Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,_   
_The appetite may sicken, and so die._   
_That strain again! it had a dying fall:_   
_O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,_   
_That breathes upon a bank of violets,_   
_Stealing and giving odour!_

            - _Twelfth Night_ , Act I Sc I

 **(December 1811, Rotherham Park)**  
  
It was, at first glance, an ordinary square-cased pianoforte that stood in the room at Rotherham Park when the family and their guests assembled after dinner. Robbie hung back as his bride approached it, frowning a little, and ran her hand over the gleaming wooden case.

"I cannot possibly take a piano to Spain, Robbie," she said, turning to him with a frown. He only grinned at her.

"Ordinarily, no. But this is a special case," he informed her.

 She turned back to the instrument, noting new details she had not previously seen - the brass capped-feet of the legs, the inlaid brass at each corner and the inset handle at each side of the case. “Robbie…?"

 The collaboration between the instrument manufacturers and those who made the campaign furniture had produced the most exquisite instrument Robbie thought he had ever seen, and Bee’s reaction was everything he could have hoped for.

“We are going on campaign, dearest. I have my Shakespeare, you must have your music,” he said, finally approaching to show her the other details he had requested be included, after a long and complicated consultation with the maker and detailed advice from Viola.  The piano stool with a drawer rather than a lift-up lid for the sheet music, which also had space to store the legs once they were removed for travel. The secret drawer in the base of the piano for its own legs, which unscrewed in the same way those of a campaign bed or other furniture did. The brass sconces that folded out when required. The keyboard lid which held a foldaway stand for her music.

“I do not know how well it will transport - musically, I mean,” he confessed and turned his head to look at Viola, standing beside Lord Emerson and wearing an expression of… envy combined with sadness, he thought. “I have been reassured that it will be possible to transport it safely - there is some sort of damper or something for the strings, but I am not sure of all the details. I was sent a letter with those, and you may peruse it at your pleasure later but - we should dearly like to hear how it sounds, if you will oblige us?

“It is truly… beautiful,” Bee said, pausing as she looked down to see a brass plate let into the lid, with her new initials - _IHF -_ engraved into it. Below it, done in exquisite marquetry, was a honey-bee, the only decoration other than the brass and the actual grains of the woods used, a concedence to the campaign life and (she was sure) to the Spanish climate. Robbie was more than pleased with the quality of the workmanship and that she seemed so taken by it was more than enough thanks for him.

“Please,” Viola said, stepping forward and opening the lid for her.

The invitation proved too much and Bee took her seat, looking up at her husband in startled realisation that the piano stool was higher than usual, and would be much more comfortable - she had grown used to dealing with stools at the height other ladies had them, but had not realised how low they were. This was as though it had been made for her - which, she belatedly realised, it had been.

She touched her hands to the keys to hear the music it produced, and was not disappointed. “Oh, Robbie, it’s…” Words failed her and she impulsively stood up again to press a kiss to his cheek before resuming her seat.

The instrument had a very pleasing sound to it and Robbie breathed a soft sigh of relief as she began playing something he vaguely recognised - not the Beethoven his sister favoured, but something that he fancied was a little older in style.

 “Haydn,” Viola whispered to him, and his expression cleared. He had missed hearing music on a regular basis - such a thing had not been possible in Spain, at least until now - and he could not help the slightly selfish motive that the gift was: He could hear music now any time that his wife chose to play, when they were encamped together.

 He could not help being thankful that his rank allowed for such a thing; had he been still a Captain, he might well have been able to marry but a captain’s tent would never have had the room in it for such a precious object. He was very well pleased with the work, which had taken several weeks to complete - it had of necessity been commissioned before his visit to Cornwall and his proposal. He could not quite believe that he had been so confident of her positive reply to his proposal.

 Bee’s expression was everything that Robbie could have hoped for - she could not stop smiling, and her grin found a matching one on his face. She only played the first movement before standing, somewhat reluctantly - Robbie was almost certain he saw her caress the brass plaque and marquetry bee as she closed the lid.

 "It’s lovely," she said, crossing to him to wrap her arms around him. Height difference meant that the kiss he would have pressed to her hair was pressed to her cheek instead, regardless of the presence of his family. “I have never heard of a piano being made like that before.”

 “It took a deal of planning, I don’t mind admitting, but it was more than worth it,” Robbie told her, even as she turned, forcing him to release her, and indicated that Viola should come and take a seat.

 "We would very much like to hear you play something, Lady Emerson,” she said, and Robbie gave her an encouraging grin.

 “The stool might be a bit high for you, Vi, but you can use your own if you wish,” he said, only to receive an arched eyebrow as she sat.

 He led his wife to a nearby sofa, and they sat. Bee clasped his hand tightly. “It is beautiful, Robbie, truly,” she said.

 “Only the very best for you, Bee, dearest,” he said in reply. “I could not ask you to give up your music to follow the drum, could I?”

 She rearranged herself a little so that she could lean against him, enjoying the sound of an accomplished pianist playing Beethoven on a wedding present she could never have dreamed of receiving.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: [Marquetry](http://www.heritageinlay.com/music_box_lid_restore.jpg) is the art of using different wood veneers, which have different colours or shades, to create a pattern or picture.


End file.
